


Mountain Fold

by greywash



Series: Written for Fan Flashworks [9]
Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, F/M, Gen, I am doing 39 Graves but this is its own thing and has zero spoilers for my timeline or any others, I probably forgot somebody but you get the idea, In case you were wondering, M/M, Pairings listed alphabetically, See Story Notes for Warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 08:31:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17863937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greywash/pseuds/greywash
Summary: Leaving, thirty-nine times.





	Mountain Fold

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning for disturbing content**. I keep my warning policy in my [profile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greywash/profile#warnings) and am always willing to answer private DW messages or [emails](mailto:greywash@gmail.com) asking for elaboration or clarification on my warnings for a particular story. This was written for both the "[Note](https://fan-flashworks.dreamwidth.org/tag/c:+note)" challenge at **[fan_flashworks](https://fan-flashworks.dreamwidth.org/)** and the "[Suitcase](https://fan-flashworks.dreamwidth.org/1822295.html?thread=5794135#cmt5794135)" square on my FFW bingo card. This was also written with a nonzero amount of help from a sort of statistically elaborate though not particularly sophisticated Python script, the details of which don't need exploring at this juncture. Basically I just feel I should disclose that it's partly fanfic and partly, like......... code-based performance art, I guess? Fanfic built on an underlying skeleton of code-based performance art? Something like that, at any rate.

### 1\. Sunderland.

_(pencil on yellow sticky note: crumpled, smoothed out)_

Prof. S –

I know you think I'm an idiot for it, but I can't keep waiting around here while—whatever. My old roommate found this book of ~~maps~~ not _exactly_ maps, but they're _like_ maps, and we got Julia Wicker to help us with the locator, so—we're going. Hopefully I'll be back before you even see this. _With_ the girl from the dungeon. If not—thanks for everything. Sorry I give you migraines.

– Penny

 

### 2\. Quentin.

_(in red pen on the back of a sheet of metamagical calculations, tucked into the jamb of Quentin Coldwater's door)_

Stole the button. Back by morning.

 

### 3\. Marina.

_(on the inside of a sheet of sheet of graph paper, trimmed and folded into the form of an origami crane, spelled to fly to Manhattan [pencil])_

I got the clock. I have an errand to run, and then it's all yours. You better have my cash, when I get back.

 

### 4\. Mayakovsky.

_(in blue Sharpie, scrawled on a spell–scarred table)_

Hell no motherfucker. Not your 12V charger.

Also, borrowing a battery for the portals. Emily says XO.

 

### 5\. Julia.

_(on the back of a T-Mobile bill, unopened, red pen)_

I know, I know, from the second you saw this you were _so fucking pissed_ , you don't even have to tell me, but Jules, I have to do this. I know you're not talking to Quentin right now, but he's going to need your help, if this doesn't work. With Kady dead and Eliot with the centaurs, we both know he's got—what, five days, maybe? before the Beast breaks through the shield wall again? And you're going to hate yourself for it, if you let him die. No matter what he did.

Look. I love you. That's not going to change. And you might be my soulmate, but I still fucking _owe_ them, okay? That stupid fucking crown _means_ something—or, it does to me, anyway. It's _supposed_ to.

I have to go. I'll try to talk to you through the mirrors, when I can.

 

### 6\. Mischa.

_(in blue Sharpie, scrawled on a spell–scarred table, tucked under a copy of Introduction to Cross–Planar Portals)_

Victoria's here. Told me how you got exiled to Antarctica. 'Girlfriend?' Think I should be more pissed than I am. Fuck traveling, anyway—stealing your batteries for Spring Break. Enjoy the read. x P

 

### 7\. Julia.

_(back of a flyer for Future Islands, Zack Mexico @ the Bowery Ballroom, 2/14/2017, trimmed and folded into the form of an origami crane, spelled to fly to Brakebills [pencil])_

Okay, be that way, I don't fucking care. You don't want to help? Fucking fine. Quentin found this book of ~~maps~~ not _exactly_ maps, but they're like maps, and we got Alice to help us with the locator, so—we're going. We're going, and we're getting Kady out, so—fuck you too, I guess.

 

### 8\. Kady.

_(on the back of a sheet of metamagical calculations [pencil], folded into a paper airplane, spelled to fly through the Earth fountain)_

I think I'm in some huge fucking trouble, K. There's these battle magic assholes all over this fucking place and I can't find my way back to the right fountain—I'm going to try to follow this, but if it makes it and I don't: I love you. Whatever. Fuck this shit.

 

### 9\. Sunderland.

_(blue Sharpie on yellow sticky note: crumpled, smoothed out)_

Prof. S –

Look. Yes, I stole the button back, but Fogg's safe is so easy to break into it's like he _wanted_ me to steal it, so—I can't stay, okay? That fucking shield wall is total bullshit, it'll hold the Beast back—what, five days? Six? And that's Fillory time, not here, so—this stupid fucking crown _means_ something—or, it does to me, anyway. It's _supposed_ to. I'm getting them out if it kills me. I can't leave them behind.

Thanks for the assist on my hands. It was a good try, anyway. Sorry I give you migraines.

– P

 

### 10\. The Head Librarian.

_(blue Sharpie, scrawled across the due date card of a copy of Introduction to Cross–Planar Portals [fine: fourteen months])_

Okay, so, nice try, but Janet found the maps (I do _know_ where you keep the "to be shelved" cart, you know), and Quentin has a solid interdimensional locator from when he was at Cambridge, so—we're going. We'll bring the battery back. Hope it's not, like, critical for essential library business, or whatever, but we need it for the Rhinemann Ultra. And I'll owe you one. Anyway, I set up the mirror in the third–floor bathroom to record how it goes. Preserving knowledge, right? Hopefully that'll buy me a couple years off the fine.

 

### 11\. Eliot.

_(on the back of an AT &T bill, unopened: blue Sharpie)_

I know, I know, from the second you saw this you were _so fucking pissed_ , you don't even have to tell me, but El, I have to do this. I know you're not talking to Margo right now, but she's going to need your help, if this doesn't work. With Quentin dead and Julia with the centaurs, we both know she's got—what, five days, maybe? before the Beast breaks through the shield wall again? And you're going to hate yourself for it, if you let her die. No matter what she did.

Anyway. Whatever. I'm running out of time, so—I'm gonna go. I love you. I'm sorry we're cursed.

 

### 12\. Alice.

_(pencil on on a sheet ripped from a one–subject notebook [spiral bound], folded and tucked inside a pink diary [never found])_

Look. I'm not dead yet, so—I have an errand to run. You don't want my help, but I _know_ I can help with Julia with that locator, so. We're getting Quentin out. And then you can—do whatever you need to do.

Anyway. Listen. We both know I'm running out of time—he loves you, okay? Don't be a dumbass. We're not _all_ cursed.

 

### 13\. Mayakovsky.

_(in blue Sharpie, scrawled on a scrawled on a spell–scarred table)_

Finally just raided your library. Hands working again, thanks for nothing, asshole.

 

### 14\. Poppy.

_(pencil, parchment, badly scorched)_

Stole the button. Thanks for nothing, asshole.

I was going to say that I'd try to talk to you through the mirrors, when I can, but frankly—you are almost more trouble than you're worth. I guess we don't get to choose our soulmates, but—okay, fine, I'm warning you: if you and Marina fuck with us again, I'm not gonna stop Quentin from killing you.

x P

 

### 15\. Frankie.

_(pencil on a sheet ripped from a one–subject notebook [spiral bound], folded and tucked under a complimentary fruit basket)_

I got the clock. I have an errand to run, and then it's all yours.

— P

 

### 16\. Frankie.

_(red pen, on the back of a winning lotto ticket, tucked into a copy of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance)_

Stole the button. Thanks for the assist, her battle magic girlfriend nearly _flayed_ me getting out of the Attic.

Back by morning, probably? _With_ the girl. Pick us up something bubbly, to celebrate.

x P

 

### 17\. Amanda.

_(on the back of an Citibank envelope, pencil, discarded unread)_

We got it. Alice had to blast the entire south quadrant of Brakebills to get it, too, so—if you want the clock we want hazard pay, okay? Double, in cash, as soon as we get back.

 

### 18\. Victoria.

_(blue Sharpie, parchment, extensive water damage)_

Back by morning. I got it. I just—I have an errand to run, and then it's all yours. Are you ready to do my tattoos?

 

### 19\. Quentin.

_(pencil on green sticky note: crumpled, smoothed out)_

See ya, loser.

 

### 20\. Alice.

_(black Sharpie, parchment, partially digested by goat)_

Look, I'm not—I'm not getting into it, I'm not getting into it, I AM NOT GETTING INTO IT but you're my soulmate, or whatever, so—I'm borrowing your battery for the portals, and I am hauling them fucking out, and you can fireball me later, or whatever. Maybe you can just—write them off, boom, but I can't, okay? I still fucking _owe_ them, this stupid fucking crown _means_ something—or, it does to me, anyway. It's _supposed_ to. So I'm—I don't care if I can't cast and I don't care if I wind up bleeding from every orifice or whatever particular variety of torment the Beast is cooking up for me in particular—I can hear them screaming. I can't just leave them behind.

 

### 21\. Todd.

_(on the back of an Verizon envelope, discarded, blue Sharpie)_

Okay, you're out, you're out, fine, I'm not going to—look. Julia found this book of ~~maps~~ not _exactly_ maps, but they're like maps, and we got Professor Sunderland to help us with the locator, so—we're going. Whether or not you stay behind. I want to say I'll be back by morning, but we both know how that went last time—just cover for us with Fogg, okay?

We know there's got to be another way back, _somewhere_ in Fillory. Or maybe—Chatwin's Torrent, maybe? I'm tired of being too drugged to cast properly. And we can't just fucking—leave Quentin behind.

I didn't forget. I'll try to talk to you through the mirrors, when I can.

x P

 

### 22\. Margo.

_(red pen on a sheet ripped from a one–subject notebook [spiral bound], folded and tucked under a bottle of Jack Daniels)_

I know, I know, from the second you saw this you were _so fucking pissed_ , you don't even have to tell me, but Margo, I have to do this. I know you're not talking to Eliot right now, but he's going to need your help, if this doesn't work. With Julia dead and Quentin with the centaurs, we both know he's got—what, five days, maybe? before the Beast breaks through the shield wall again? And you're going to hate yourself for it, if you let him die. No matter what he did.

Look. I love you. That's not going to change. And you might my soulmate, but I still fucking _owe_ them, okay? That stupid fucking crown _means_ something—or, it does to me, anyway. It's _supposed_ to.

I have to go. I'll try to get you through the mirrors, when I can.

 

### 23\. Julia.

_(on the back of a map sketched on a sheet from a legal pad, torn and folded into the form of an origami crane, spelled to fly to Fillory)_

J, fuck, please, let this work, please, come on, if _anyone_ should be able to signal me—your fucking Fillory map doesn't show any fucking fountains and I need to know where I'm going, there's these battle magic assholes all over this fucking place and I've been jumping fountain to button to fountain for like six fucking days, and I've charmed three of these to Todd but either the spell doesn't work or he's—just fucking ignoring me. Fucking Todd. Where the fuck are you, Jules?

Jesus, if Quentin gets you killed, I'm going to dismember that asshole personally.

 

### 24\. Victoria.

_(on a sheet from a legal pad, trimmed and folded into the form of a paper airplane, spelled to fly to the Neitherlands Library)_

Got it. You better have my cash, when I get back.

 

### 25\. Quentin.

_(in blue Sharpie, scrawled on a scarred inner forearm)_

I meant it  
you're my soulmate  
I love you—that's not  
going to change.  
but I can't leave them.  
they chose me.  
they gave me a crown.  
not leaving you, though, either.  
back by morning, okay?

x P

 

### 26\. Julia.

_(red pen, parchment, obliterated in catastrophic planetary disintegration, unread)_

I meant it. You're my soulmate. You're my—everything. But I can't leave them, Jules, they _chose_ me. They gave me a home. They gave me a crown. I'm not going to leave you, though, either, okay? I'll try to talk to you through the mirrors, when I can.

I love you. That's not going to change.

 

### 27\. Pearl.

_(red pen on yellow sticky note: crumpled, smoothed out)_

You don't want to hear it—well, fine. So I'm not going to keep telling you thanks for trying and I'm not going to tell you that I love you again and I'm not going to say anything about you being my soulmate, but—I am going to tell you that I'm borrowing a battery for the portals, because I still can't power these fucking tattoos up, and Coldwater and I don't agree on much but we do agree we're not leaving Julia and Amanda behind.

I'll be back as soon as I can, okay? Sorry I give you migraines.

Love,  
Penny

 

### 28\. Kady.

_(in red Sharpie, scrawled on a scarred inner forearm)_

I can't leave them.  
they chose me.  
but I can't leave you, either.  
you're my soulmate  
and I love you—that's not  
going to change.  
but I need to do this.  
I'll owe you one, okay?

x P

 

### 29\. Victoria.

_(pencil on a sheet ripped from a one–subject notebook [spiral bound], folded and tucked under a blue glass pipe)_

Listen. I can't do this. I thought I could but—I have to get him out. I can still hear him screaming. If this goes wrong— _stay the fuck away_. Quentin's my problem, not yours. You did your time. So—back by morning, I hope. If not—well. I love you. You're my soulmate. That's not going to change.

 

### 30\. Zelda.

_(blue Sharpie on a sheet ripped from a one–subject notebook [spiral bound], folded and tucked under the stapler at the Information Desk, the Library, Neitherlands Branch)_

You don't make it easy, you know that?

I found my book. And Kady's, and Julia's, and Quentin's. High Kings and Queens of Fillory, huh? Look. I love you. You're my soulmate. That's not going to change. But I can't stay when the Beast's devouring the world that I'm supposed to save, and I—don't think you want me to, really. Do you?

Anyway. We're out of time, aren't we? I'm sorry. Is there a book for that?

 

### 31\. Alice.

_(a sheet from a legal pad, trimmed and folded into the form of a paper airplane, spelled to fly to Chicago)_

We're in some huge fucking trouble, A. I know you left for a good reason, but there's these battle magic assholes all over Brakebills and I can't travel, this creepy moth dude ripped out Fogg's eyes, and half our class is dead, including Coldwater, so of course the only even vaguely plausible battle magician we've got is losing his fucking mind—do you still have the button? Julia thinks if we're ever going to try it—listen, we need you, okay? We need _you_ , and we need you now. Help us, please. Bring us backup. Anyone. _Anything_ you can find.

 

### 32\. Amanda.

_(red pen on yellow sticky note: crumpled and thrown away)_

We're doing it. I'll try to talk to you through the mirrors, when I can.

 

### 33\. Kady.

_(Pencil, on the flyleaf of a copy of Introduction to Cross–Planar Portals, unread)_

I got the button. I have an errand to run, and then it's all yours.

 

### 34\. Frankie.

_(on the back of a sheet of metamagical calculations [red pen], folded into an origami crane, spelled to fly through the Earth fountain)_

I got him. You better have my cash, when I get back.

 

### 35\. Eliot.

_(back of a flyer for PAT Party, JD Samson @ Union Pool, 2/14/2019, thrown away)_

Okay, be that way, I don't fucking care. You don't want to help? Fucking fine. Julia found this book of ~~maps~~ not _exactly_ maps, but they're like maps, and we can't leave them. They chose us. They chose _me_ , and that _means_ something to me, El. Even if you can just—walk away.

Look. I love you. That's not going to change. I wish I could just tell you to go fuck yourself, but—you're my soulmate, okay? Even if you're more trouble than you're worth, half the time.

You change your mind, you know where to find me. Send me a message in the mirrors, and I'll come for you.

 

### 36\. Pearl.

_(pencil on yellow sticky note: crumpled, smoothed out, forgotten)_

Listen. I still fucking _owe_ them, okay? That stupid fucking crown _means_ something—or, it does to me, anyway. It's _supposed_ to—

 

### 37\. Quentin.

_(blue Sharpie on yellow sticky note: tucked into the edge of a mirror, Whitespire, Fillory, collecting dust)_

—mean something, and if he's through the wards at Brakebills, you know he's coming here next. I'm not cool with just—letting it ride. I can't leave either of you behind. I'm borrowing the battery for my tattoos, and taking—

 

### 38\. Alice.

_(pencil on torn scrap of paper, caught inside a copy of Introduction to Cross–Planar Portals, reshelved, never found)_

—Quentin with me, since—anyway. We both know I'm running out of time—

 

### 39\. Julia.

_(in blue Sharpie, half–washed off of a scarred inner forearm, going cold)_

I love you  
I'm sorry we're cursed


End file.
